


Bedding

by cowboykylux



Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bedding Ceremony, Consummation sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Historical Accuracy, Kings & Queens, Semi-Public Sex, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Once the ceremony has concluded and the feast has all been enjoyed, you and your new husband, Sir Kylo Ren, King of Alderaan must profess your love and seal your marriage in the most intimate of ways. You don't mind, you only wish there weren't so many people around to watch.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Series: Medieval Knight Kylo AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537318
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152





	Bedding

You are radiant, he thinks, as they disrobe you. Your ladies in waiting slide an outer robe of velvet away from your shoulders, leaving you in only your smock and veil – for now that you are a wedded woman, you dare not show your hair to the crowd which fills the room.

He is next, and his squires remove his fur coat in much the same manner, leaving him in a smock of his own, and you appraise him, look him up and down, smile at him with so much adoration that Kylo wishes he could marry you all over again.

As Kylo stands across from you in your bed chambers, a thrill runs through him, for this will be the first time he lays beside you as man and wife, King and Queen.

You sit atop the bed primly, properly, and Kylo follows, sitting on his side stiff as a board. He wants nothing more than to embrace you, wants nothing more than to hold you so tight, so close, so sweetly. But first you must be blessed, and then the drapes of the canopy must close, and only then can he lift the fabric from your body which conceals you to him, your body which he has seen so many times by now.

Each and every time, you are magnificent in his eyes, perhaps even more so, with each glance at your curves.

The Bishop, Lord Luke stands at the foot of the bed, crosses the air with his hand and recites some Latin. Everyone in the room bows when he finishes, the blessing over. There are nearly twenty people there, all members of your family, your friends, the royal court.

It is a privilege to be able to witness the consummation of a royal marriage, but Kylo can’t help thinking how strange it is, that they’re going to listen to the sounds of you getting fucked.

If previous experience were anything to go by, they’d be in for quite the evening.

You must be thinking the same thing, because as the squires close the drapes of the canopy, thick velvet things which block out the romantic candlelight, you give him a knowing look. Still, he can see the hint of apprehension in your eyes, and Kylo immediately frowns.

“You’re nervous.” He says, because it is not an expression he sees you wear often, not something he is familiar with, with you.

He worries, worries that perhaps you have changed your mind, perhaps you don’t want to be his wife any longer, but you only glance at the crowd, give them a lingering look even when the drapes fully close, and they all turn their backs to you, some semblance of respect.

“It’s just strange having people here.” You whisper, and Kylo’s temper flares, that they would dare make you so uncomfortable with their petty traditions.

With the drapes now closed fully, they cannot see him pull you towards him, cannot see the way his strong hands loop underneath your arms to hug you close.

“Leave us at once.” He orders, startling the crowd outside the fabric walls.

“But, but your Majesty – ” Luke begins, and there is a deathly silence as they all try to figure out what to do.

“Your Queen commands privacy.” Kylo insists, but you’re grabbing for his face in the dark, shaking your head.

“Just kiss me, I’ll be alright.” You stop him, for you know how important this ceremony is.

“Are you sure?” Kylo asks, “I will not have you do something you do not wish.”

“I am.” You reassure him, guiding his face to yours in the velvety blackness, whispering against his cheek, his chin, his lips, “Please, just kiss me.”

Kylo needs not be told again, and his big warm hands undo your veil, removing the pins and tossing them off of the bed so that you do not accidentally poke yourself throughout the night. With your hair freed, he runs his fingers through the locks, detangling it and twining it around his fingers for a moment.

Someone coughs, and you both awkwardly grimace at one another before dissolving into a fit of silent giggles, Kylo finally pulling your smock away. You give him the same treatment, and he lays you down on the downy pillows, kisses you to get you to relax for him.

And relax for him you do, as your sighs fill the enclosed space of the canopy bed while his deft fingers work in and out of you. He knows you, knows what your body likes, knows the right way to touch you to ensure you’re prepared for him.

You’re wet for him, as always, like your body seemingly never stops, never runs out of slick to coat your cunt, never not ready to take whatever he gives you. He fingers you like this only for a few moments, until you’re moaning softly, your legs fallen apart entirely. He smiles into your neck as he has to press your hips down with his other hand, for they keep rising of their own accord.

You tug on his ear, and that’s a sign that you’re ready – or at the very least, you’re impatient, and he swallows hard around the lump in his throat as he settles on top of you, withdraws his fingers and replaces them instead with his hard cock.

“Kylo – !” You clamp a hand over your mouth in a gasp, and this time when your hips rise he lets them, for it allows him to slide in deeper, allows him to bury himself to the hilt.

The two of you fuck so often that now it takes little time for your body to adjust to his huge size, and you grin at the feeling, grin at the deviancy, for if the Church knew you had fucked before marriage, well then perhaps this wedding wouldn’t be such a joyous one.

It matters not, Kylo thinks, for it was he you fucked, and it was now he you had wed, so in the end, it all balances out.

“Pretend as though they’re not here.” He whispers in your ear, “You need not quiet yourself now, not that we are finally wed.”

With those words of encouragement, your hand drops from your mouth, and he can see the pretty ‘o’ of your lips as your jaw hangs down. He rolls his hips against yours, bodies flush together, and it drags a loud moan out of you that is sure to make the crowd uncomfortable, hot in their robes.

“Oh, yes!” You throw your head back as the roll of his hips give way to proper thrusts, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Kylo can only grunt in his own pleasure, his own eyes closed as he grabs hold of your thighs, yanks them down and around his waist so he might fuck you deeper.

You are heaven around him, the hot wet clench of your cunt on his cock has him groaning, the slap of his skin against yours has his head dizzy. All of you makes him dizzy, and he can only bury his face between your breasts, nose at the underside of your chest, can only suck dark cherry red marks into the skin there to keep himself from growling too dramatically.

But oh how he wishes to be dramatic, for you stir such feelings in him. Every time he is graced with railing your pussy he is drowned in pleasure, all of his nerves on fire, so consumed by you, by your hands on his body, your legs around him, your mouth on him. You are slippery and slick from the combination of spit and sweat, drool and pre-come, and the sounds are practically sinful.

“Kylo – harder, harder please.” You beg, moan, whine for him, and he would rather die than disobey.

He fists his hand in your hair and pulls hard, hard enough that you yelp from it, tugs your head to the side so you might bare your neck for him. He sucks hard on your throat as his powerful thighs and hips use all their strength to ram his cock into you.

He knows just where that special spot inside you is, the one that’s right along your front wall that makes you babble for him, and he finds it with ease as he shoves you up and up and up the bed, each punch into your throbbing pulsing pussy punctuated by a sharp gasp or moan.

“Oh please, right there – right there!” You encourage him, loudly, so loudly that pride fills him as you arch your back and tremble for him.

He releases your hair so that his free hand can grope one of your breasts, pinching hard at the nipple. He tugs on it, tweaks it enough for your knees to clamp down hard around him, and he can tell your orgasm is going to be creeping up on you soon.

You exchange sloppy kisses, the smack of your lips and your cries of pleasure almost drowning out the sound of his balls slapping your ass, until your moans grow higher and higher, rising in octave until you’re clawing at his back, toes curling in bliss as he licks his thumb and uses the saliva to lubricate your clit, zig-zagging his finger back and forth over it, making you come on his cock.

You always did come loudly, he thinks with a possessive pride, proud that he did that, that he was the only one who ever got to do that to you.

But he still isn’t done, and you whine as he fucks you through your orgasm, drops his head into the crook of your neck as his cock continues to split you in two. He is so far inside you that he can _feel _your cervix, can feel the resistance when he has filled your cunt fully, and that makes him groan, makes him grunt through gritted teeth because it’s just so good, so right, that you were made exactly to take him.

You’re oversensitive and he knows this, can tell by the way you’re squirming, gasping, pawing at his sides. You’re pliant and malleable in his hands, and he adjusts your legs, throws one over his shoulder so that he might hit at a different angle, one that hasn’t made you so raw.

Kylo shouts out a loud, “Fuck!” When he comes, hips going still against you.

He rolls his hips against yours once again, just as he had in the beginning, pushing all of his come as far into you as it will go, and though it is dark he swears he sees white, swears he sees you grinning up at him. You both take a few panting breaths, deep gulps of air as your limbs fall away from his body, completely blissed out and floaty, as if you were laying on a cloud.

But you are very much not laying on a cloud, the two of you are metaphorically brought back to earth when there is applause coming from just beyond the drapes of the canopy, and you both go bright red in the dark, having completely forgotten all about the crowd that has been eavesdropping on the entire affair.

The applause is not polite either, it is filled with wolf-whistles, and Kylo wonders how many of them are hard, how many are wet and clenching their thighs together? He himself is nearly hard again just from still being inside you. 

“Well done, your Majesties.” Luke says, and he sounds impressed, very impressed, with the way the evening has gone.

Virgins did not sound this way, and the applause only makes you and Kylo grin into each other’s arms, hands covered over your mouths to try and stifle the laughs which seek to escape you.

The crowd files out in two neat lines, the members of the wedding party no doubt desperate to get themselves off. Left alone at last, Kylo rolls over onto his back and pulls you with him so you may tuck yourself against his chest, and the two of you chuckle in a post-sex glow for the rest of the night.

He is elated, as he closes his eyes, thrilled that this is only the beginning, only the first night of the rest of his life, with you beside him, his wife. 


End file.
